


This is Not a First Time Story

by Seda



Category: Wynonna Earp (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Did I say light angst? I think I meant angst, F/F, Fluff, I promise you I'll cobble together a happy ending eventually though, Implied Sexual Content, Like quite obviously implied sexual content that's still teen rating right?, Some light angst, Some light humour, fill-in scenes, post-possession processing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-05
Updated: 2018-02-05
Packaged: 2019-02-28 05:30:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 12,919
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13264701
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Seda/pseuds/Seda
Summary: This is not a story of Waverly and Nicole's First Time. Not theirFirst TimeFirst Time anyway, the one with Capital Letters, the one with angels singing, hearts meeting, souls joining.But it is a story about all the little first times that led them up to it.Covers 1x02 to 2x06, with a few fill in scenes along the way.PS don't believe everything you read on the internet ;-)





	1. Chapter 1

This is not the story of Waverly Earp and Nicole Haught's First Time.

It is however, a story of some of their first times.

 

* * *

**Waverly**

The first time I met Nicole was the first time I'd felt attraction like that.

Yes, I'm human, and an Earp too, so sure thing I liked looking at boys. I liked Champ's muscles, and boyish smile, and in a lot of ways I did genuinely like being with him. At least until he opened his mouth that is.

And if I'm completely honest, and certainly now with hindsight, I also knew that I liked looking at girls, too. The smooth curves of their arms, their softness, the sweetness of perfume.

But until Nicole I didn't realise what attraction really could be.

She walked into that bar like the first 3D movie I'd seen, like colour appearing in a black and white world; like she saw straight through me and her smile warmed me from the inside.

And God, did she warm me. As she stood close to me, sure and steady and flirting clear as day, I could hear myself babbling, a sure sign of nerves. Then as she walked away I couldn't take my eyes off of her.

The first time she turned, and smiled, I knew that something in me had been called.

And it was the first time I realised that Purgatory's dating pool might not be so small after all.

 

**Nicole**

The first time I understood that Waverly was more than just a crush to me was after Shorty had died.

What sort of bullshit operation was Dolls running? I felt a familiar confusion and anger on arriving at the scene to find Dolls taking the lead, as usual, with what I thought back then was his useless loose canon sidekick Wynonna somehow inextricably linked with the trouble. Like she always was. Why was Nedley just standing there and taking orders? 

That was before I _knew_ , of course.

And confusion turned to frustration, and anger to fury, as he just let them drive away.

I'd get used to that combination of emotions, working in Purgatory 'alongside' Black Badge.

But then, Shorty.

And Waverly.

We'd studied giving bad news to relatives, and I'd aced the role-plays we'd done in training. But nothing prepared me for the way I felt when I knew what had happened to Shorty, and what that would do to Waverly.

The first time I found myself sat at home, stroking Calamity Jane, in tears of worry at something that had happened to Waverly - not to me, not to _us_ even, just to her - was the first time I really realised what she meant to me.

And when I saw her at the wake. When I held her hand, and despite the unbelievably crass behaviour of her idiot boyfriend, saw her reach for me. When I found myself unable to leave the bar until the last respects had been paid, seeing Waverly's eyes flit to me and then away over and again, was the first time I allowed myself to wonder if maybe there might be something there for her too.

Surely not. Surely that's wishful thinking, I told myself; for the first time, but definitely not for the last.

 

* * *

 

The first time I saw how strong Waverly really was, how much the town, and maybe even how much I had underestimated her, was a couple of weeks later.

 

The first time I realised Nicole wasn't the untouchable hero I had started to see her as, the first time I realised she was in any way vulnerable, was one evening at Shorty's.

 

I'd had a shitty week. A shitty week on a shitty week. Mocked by Wynonna and left out by Dolls. Small towns whispers and rules in the precinct I had no hope of understanding. Doing my best, and _knowing_ it was good too; but somehow a guarded look still in Nedley's eyes. What was he hiding from me, why did he work so hard to bring me to Purgatory if he wasn't going to trust me?

Coming home to my house, too big just for me really, certainly too dark and cold and empty. And giving in to an urge I'd been trying to resist, to head to where I knew there might be a person with warmth and light.

And if not that, there would at the very least be beer.

 

I saw Nicole walk in, and as usual, when her eyes caught mine her gorgeous smile broke out. I could feel my plastered-on Shorty's work smile replaced by a new one, a real one, a secret one just between us.

I was tied up dealing with Champ being a shit-ticket, and his jerk friends egging him on. So it was Gus who served her her beer. But as always seemed to be the case now, with her steady but undemanding looks towards me I felt ten feet tall, nervous, shy, excited, confused. All of it, just at the knowledge of her sat at a side table, calmly sipping her drink and playing with her phone.

 

It was the first time I'd watched her work, and really the first time I'd seen her in her element. As a cop I've seen more than one drink-fuelled situation escalate, more than one wrong word turn a bad situation worse.

Waverly was incredible. She dealt kindly and personally with long term regulars, keeping drink and banter flowing, but skillfully keeping both the casual side of too much. She was friendly and just borderline flirty enough with first timers to create the famous Shorty's atmosphere, but firm and polite in rebuttals when the beers and testosterone combined in some for boorish come-ons or offers. She seemed to know and love everybody, and boy did everyone love her in return.

I watched closely as that idiot Champ went from whiny to pushy to almost, almost over the line. I'd got as far as shifting half my weight out of my seat when I saw her signal Gus, the two flank the ridiculous boy-man, and before he knew it he was half charmed, half manhandled out the bar. I saw Waverly holding one of his hands behind his back just high enough so he complied, not high enough his friends would see or his pride need to kick in to fight the physicality.

To my shame, it was the first time I realised Waverly didn't actually need me to be her white knight.

And I'm pretty sure it was the first time she fully caught me out, staring wide eyed in admiration, and I'll admit, probably a little in lust, as she bounced back into the bar, brushing her hands off and phoning Champ's long-suffering mom to come pick him up, again.

 

It was the first time I really caught her out staring. She'd always looked at me, but respectfully, from a  distance, obviously admiring, but not expecting anything in return. I had already admitted to myself that I enjoyed it, the obvious interest flattering, but without there being any feeling of pressure to come with it. But now she flat-out stared, wide-eyed and if I could believe it, more than a little struck by something. My stomach flipped over.

I had no idea what had put that look on her face. But whatever it was, if I was ten feet tall before; I was twenty foot now.

 

That ended up being the first of many nights that I stayed until and beyond closing time, Waverly ushering everyone out except me, whilst she closed down the bar around me.

The first time I sat up at the bar, a comfortable silence as she bustled around behind the bar stacking glasses and emptying drip trays, whilst I span out the last dregs of my beer.

And maybe the first time we properly talked.

 

"So what brings you here tonight. Tough day?"

 

Her eyes twinkled, recognising both the cliche, and the fact that she could see it was a fair question to ask me that night.

"Not particularly. No worse than usual." I answered, morosely, through the haze and honesty of several beers. Then realising what I must sound like, made half an effort to bring the Haught swagger. "Or maybe I just wanted some more stimulating company than the crazy hick criminals I spend my days with."

 

She winked at me. She _winked_ at me, and again that internal voice chimed out,  _God she's sexy;_  so clear I was scared for a second I'd said it out loud. 

But I could see there was more to her being there, more than she was allowing herself to say.

"Just the criminal hicks that are the problem is it Nicole? None of the other hicks we've got here in Purgatory?"

She didn't say anything. Maybe I shouldn't have pushed, but I couldn't seem to help myself.

"Black Badge must be a challenge to work with. I know my sister is."

She half shrugged, not making eye contact. Getting warmer.

"And Nedley and everyone's treating you ok? You settling in ok in Purgatory?"

Bingo. She swallowed, and her body language collapsed a little. I hated seeing it, _hated_ to see those proud shoulders slumped in defeat.

 

"It's ok, Waves. It's normal, settling into a new place. It's just hard being new sometimes."

I could feel her watching me, and her stillness. I couldn't meet her eyes as, to continue my evening of shame, I felt a goddamned lump form in my throat. But I'd started, and whether it was the beers, or the quiet intimacy of the half-lit bar, or just because it was _Waverly,_ and there was something about her that opened me up, I found myself going on.

"It's hard being alone sometimes."

She didn't say anything, and I was terrified I'd said too much, ruined the tough independent cop image I'd been trying to project to the world. Perhaps she'd hate me for the weakness? I felt tears gather in my eyes, and utterly humiliated by now, missed the sound of her lifting the bar top, walking around to me, until I felt a hand on my shoulder.

"You're not alone, Nicole."

I found myself turning to her, felt despite the deep breath I'd taken and held, the tears brim over and run down my cheeks.

Felt Waverly put both her arms up around my neck and pull my head gently down to her shoulder, felt her arms wrap around me. Felt my arms raise up to and link around her waist in return. 

Later this would become as familiar as breathing to us. But this was the first time I found myself just melting into her embrace.

 

The first time I held Nicole I understood that I would never, ever want to let her go.

 

* * *

 

I remember when Nicole first started to really make me laugh. And I remember the first time I realised it was for me alone, and that no-one else seemed to get her like I did.

She's not always a big talker, my Nicole. I know now that sometimes instead of a Hey how you doing? she'll just lean in for a kiss. Instead of Careful, baby, she'll take a step forward and put a hand on my arm. Her body and her eyes tell me how much she loves me as often as her words do.

But all that's a long time in the future. Back then, I first saw how she could make the best jokes I'd seen without barely saying a word.

We were in the Black Badge offices as usual. The door was shut as we discussed the monster or revenant of the week. I can't even remember what now, they all blur into one.

We heard a knock on the door, and Dolls with his usual charm barked out to enter.

Nicole edged in, bearing a case file and a look of distinctly over the top deference, and handed it to Dolls with an honest to God visible bow. I grinned, appreciating her teasing of the pomposity that our office slipped into now and then, but a bit nervous about how Dolls might react to it.

He didn't. He hadn't noticed, or probably just thought he was getting the level of respect he deserved. He turned to us, his back to Nicole, and with customary seriousness, intoned that this might be just the breakthrough we needed, and thank God Nedley understood the importance of keeping Black Badge in the know.

Behind him Nicole, with a solemn look on her face and an at ease posture, gave an exaggerated and wide-eyed nod.

"Thank _God_ "

she breathed, earnestly. I couldn't help but giggle. Surely Wynonna at least could see what she was doing?

Dolls seemingly remembered she was there and turned back, saying distractedly, Yeah thanks Haught, good work bringing this to us.

At this she snapped to attention, and I swear to god actually clicked her heels together before moving to leave the office.

"My pleasure. Y'all have a great day now."

By this stage I am covering my mouth to stop from bursting into laughter. Nicole, pleased with herself, drops half a wink and a smile to me as she finally exits the room, and I know that I'm grinning back at her.

Everyone stares at me. Wynonna asks what on earth has gotten into me.

I wonder how on earth Nicole's not gotten to them too. And realised for the first time, that it was because the whole performance was all just for me.

Not for the first time, not the first time for a while now, I feel that warm and happy glow that was starting to mean Nicole.

 

* * *

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

And so first times faded into familiarity, as firsts turned to seconds and thirds, and then like there had never been a time when they hadn't felt like this.

* * *

 My heart grew full of Waverly. I used to wake thinking of her, a hint of her presence or a whisper left from a dream, evaporating as the cold morning air and reality bit. To be replaced by a familiar hope, an optimism that carried me through those days. Maybe we'll chat at the station, I'd think. Maybe I'll drop into Shorty's again. We can spend the evening pretending we're not waiting for the end, where everyone will leave us and we can finally talk. Where I can tip my heart, again, and see if she sees it, see if she accepts it. I even begin to dare to wonder if she might one day return it.

 

I was so ridiculous, those days. Working with Black Badge should've been the culmination of all my dreams. Wynonna was back, and after years of hiding my occult knowledge under a smile and a wave I was finally able to use it to join the fight against the revenants and the curse. 

I was finally being trusted and respected, my research was relied on, my insights were valued. It was everything I had ever wanted, and should've been everything I needed.

Instead my head was full of Nicole, Nicole,  _Nicole_.

Her dimpled smile when I found an excuse to bring her another coffee at the station. The shiver I'd feel when our hands met as I passed it over. The feeling I'd get when the door would open at Shorty's and I would just know before looking that it was her. The nervous happiness that would settle in me as I'd see her enter the bar once again, too late to be meeting anyone but me, making a point of casually slipping onto the barstool nearest to where I was serving. Her crisp ironed shirt giving her away, as I understand these visits to be anything but casual.

 

"Hey you! What can I get you?"

 _God she's beautiful_ , I'd think. For the thousandth time.

"Beer please. And, can I get you something, you must be off soon?"

 _Smooth Haught, smooth_ , I chastise myself. _Offering the barmaid a drink, very original_.

But she blushes, smiles.

"Why thank you Officer Haught. I'll take a whiskey."

"Whoa hey, no Officer tonight, I'm just Nicole right now." I say, holding my hands up with a grin.

 _I'm your Nicole_ , I'm thinking.

"Well then. Thank you, Nicole."

I can hear the smile in her voice, the way she says my name quietly, carefully. I feel my stomach drop and twist, as not for the first time any more, time slips by as we just stand there like idiots, smiling into each others eyes.

 

 _She's so beautiful,_ I'd think.

 

* * *

 

And so the first time I get seriously hurt in Purgatory, I'm already so far gone on her it doesn't hurt as much as her ambivalent reaction to seeing me does.

 

 _She's the wrong type_. The wrong type. It's all I can hear, racing round my head, chased by the obvious next chilling thought: that Wynonna must be the right type.

I'm panicked, floundering. I've just got Wynonna back, I think. I can't lose her, I _can't_. I can't lose another one, the scared six year old part of me say, the child within that I try to keep reassured through books and learning and bluster and bravado. But she's still inside of me, that terrified Waverly, terrified of being left to face the monsters  alone.

So for the first time in what feels like forever, Nicole is not the first thing on my mind.

"I'm...I'm just glad that you're ok."

I turn and run.

 

She turns and runs. And it hurts. It hurts more than the pain in my ribs, the thumping in my head.

* * *

 I wake up much later. As I come to I feel so  many strange and unfamiliar sensations, from the scratchy needle of the drip in the back of one hand, to the pain and constriction around my chest, and the beeping of monitors in the background. So it takes a second before I register and understand what the warm and soft feeling is on my other hand.

I open my eyes, to see Waverly Earp sitting close to my bed, red rimmed eyes looking down at our linked hands and a stark look of sadness on her face. My heart clenched. _Wynonna_.

"Wave..." I croak out, not even able to get her name out before her head snaps up, and she looks searchingly into my eyes.

"Nicole. You're awake."

I hear the pain in her voice and fear the worse. How can I begin to pick my words for this?

"Is she...is she..."

"Wynonna's fine. She's safe. She's had a...crazy night, but she's safe."

I know there's a world of somethings she's not telling me. But I'm too tired and in too much pain to worry about that now, so I just file it away for future inspection.

"It's just you I'm worried about now."

She says it so softly, so earnestly, that I can feel a warm flutter in my chest to combat and sooth the sharp bolts of physical pain.

"Nicole, I'm so sorry. I'm so so sorry. I never wanted you to get mixed up in all of this."

I see her swallow, shake her head. All this what?

"And I shouldn't have left before. I was just really scared for Wynonna..."

She trails off again, looks away. Weak as I am I squeeze her hand, hard as I can manage.

"Waves, you don't have to apologise for that. Of course you've got to think about your family first. You don't ever have to apologise for putting family before our friendship..."

"You're not just a - "

She blurts out, talking over me then abruptly stopping. I see her shake her head, take a breath. Feel her thumb move softly back and forth on my hand. See her gather her nerve for something, as she goes on in a soft voice, without meeting my eyes.

"I mean, you're right to expect that I might want to be here for you Nicole."

What is she saying? I see her take another breath, and then look up, something honest and true and meant just for me in her eyes.

"I really, _really_ care about you, Nicole."

 I'm so tired. I hurt, everywhere. But Waverly's words fill me up. _And I love you_ , I think. But I say nothing, just squeeze her hand again, and let my eyes drift shut, finally feeling safe again.

 

* * *

 

In the hospital it had been so easy to say. I knew what I was feeling for Nicole, and in the aftermath of a life and death situation it was somehow easier to begin to let her know.

But in the familiar daytime world of Purgatory it was suddenly harder to face again. I felt back to square one; knowing what I was feeling but scared to act. I knew all it needed was the lightest push on an open door, but I was frozen and unable to do it.

Because so much was changing already. A friend had _died_ , and my sister nearly had, and of course Nicole had been hurt the second she found herself getting closer to us frickin' Earps. 

It was all too much; so that when we misunderstood each other on the street it wasn't an opportunity to laugh at ourselves, clarify our meaning, and push on forwards together. It was like the final insult, a final demonstration that I couldn't even make myself understood to _her_. I felt stupid, and lost, and miles and miles out of my depth.

Later in the car, though I was unable to resist her insistence that I get in, I was still feeling humiliated and unbelievably stressed. I snapped. 

And it was the first time I saw her just take it, saw her behaviour the mirror image of mine. I felt small and bratty and embarrassed, where she was strong and kind and mature.

It felt like the first time in my life someone's regard for me wasn't conditional on me being the perfect Waverly. And whilst that should have been a good thing, in that moment the unaccustomed and frightening feeling of freedom that came with suddenly being allowed to just be _me_ , set me reeling. 

So in panic I did the only thing I could think of, and pushed her away harder. Said the worst thing I could think of. Deliberately undermined what I knew had been growing between us.

"Well...maybe just friends?"

 

The first time Waverly pushed me away was the first time I found it was possible for me to be angry with her.

It wasn't anger like I felt at work, a righteous rage at an unjust world that had always been a welcome fire driving me.

It was a dull sadness, a resignation, a fruitless and corrosive anger than helped no-one. An anger at myself for letting myself feel what I was feeling, and for being so stupid to think she might have some sort of feelings back.

And I have to be honest, an anger at her for letting me think this. She _knew_ how I felt about her. She had to know. And she smiled at me, and she held my hand, and her and I had started on a journey together, where to neither of us knew, but a journey all the same.

But all she wanted to be was friends.

I hated myself for thinking like this. I knew that it wasn't her fault how I felt. But I couldn't help it. I didn't want to be her friend any more. Maybe once I did, could have. But not now.

 

* * *

 

I didn't want to be her friend. I knew it the second I had said it. And I knew when I saw her almost flinch, pull back, resignation on her face, that this was the first time I'd let my closeness to her mean she was now the first person I lashed out at.

I sat in the bar at Shorty's, stomach twisting with my feelings for Nicole, my shame for how I'd been with her, but paralysed by fear into inaction.

 _No-one knows about this_ , I think. _God, even Nicole probably thinks there's nothing there now_. It would be the easiest thing in the world to just Earp away my feelings, ignore them or wash them away with a flood of whiskey.

But then Gus steps in, god love her, with exactly the right words.

"About _who_ we want. You've always been an honest kid Waverly. Don't stop now."

Gus... _knows_?

Oh, fuck it.

 

* * *

 

And so it is the first time they kiss.

 

It's the first time I do the thing that scares me the most. And oh my God I will never stop taking that leap again.

It's the first time I kiss her, and it feels... _Incredible_.

 

The first time she kisses me, I think my heart might just stop completely.

 

The first time I really go for what I want.

 

The first time she truly opens up, and I'm so happy for her, and so unbelievably, pinch myself, must be dreaming, _overjoyed_ for myself, because her hand is on my thigh, and her heart is in her eyes, and I'm smiling like dawn has finally come after a long cold winter's night.

 

The first time she loses herself in instinct and somehow flips me over. The first time I feel her weight on me and I think it's lucky or else I swear I would float away.

 

The first time I feel her hand rise to the back of my head, the first time she pulls me in.

 

The first time I feel her body instinctively push at me, as she kisses me, oh God, she kisses me, and I feel every nerve in my body come alive, and I know I've come home, that this is where I'm supposed to be.

 

It's the first time I have felt like this. I've heard of butterflies but never knew what it meant until I could feel a hundred rise up inside me, of happiness and amazement and love and passion, as she kisses me. She  _kisses_ me.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was supposed to be a quick and light one-two chapter fluff fest, but a) apparently I'm a sucker for the angst, sorry not sorry :) and b) there is seemingly no end in sight. So think I'm going to stop this one here now, with a wee third chapter to come at some stage.
> 
> (Apologies if I've misquoted any lines from the show, doing those from memory.)


	3. Chapter 3

Have you ever been in love?

What did it feel like?

After we kissed I was giddy as a teenager. I found myself constantly smiling, breaking into laughter at nothing, skin and body feeling alive and burning at just the thought of Nicole. Heart fit to burst right out of my chest when she actually touches me again, when she can't help herself but walk over to me and grab my hand and pull me in for another kiss.

It was the first time in my life I'd felt anything like this. I was flying high, all over the place. I thought once abstractly of dating systems, of the Mayan and Chinese calendars and the arbitrary adoption of the Gregorian, and how at least my life now had an absolute point of reference. Happy to laugh at my ridiculousness I found myself realising that from now on everything in my life would be dated Before and After Nedley's Office.

It was intoxicating, and terrifying, and wonderful.

But then I'm an Earp, and of course we're not allowed something as trivial or mundane or _normal_ as happiness.

Willa was back.

 

* * *

 

Looking back I realise that my head hadn't stopped spinning from the moment I had met Waverly.

It was crazy. When I had moved to Purgatory I had worried life would be too slow, safe and ordinary for me in this middle-of-nowhere nothing town.

Funny to think that now. Funny? Not sure that's the word.

Within no time at all I had found my work wasn't just the speeding tickets and drunken brawls I was expecting to cut my teeth on, but murders and kidnappings and nearly being killed in the line of, and something constantly, sinisterly _odd_ characterising all of it.

Not only that but I had in short order met a girl, fallen absurdly and headlong in love, and found that when she kissed me everything I thought I had known about myself and my place in the world was wrong.

My identity to that point had always been tied up in my work, my duty. I was Nicole Haught, upstanding and dedicated Officer of the Law. I grinned ruefully to myself after we were nearly busted kissing openly in the station once more that I seem to have found a new role in life: Nicole, hopelessly devoted to Waverly Earp.

She felt so, so, amazing in my arms, in my heart, that somehow I clean forgot that Wynonna had been about to tell me something important about Purgatory. Forgot that for all our misunderstanding in the street had led to that life-changing kiss, Waverly hadn't actually refuted or been surprised when she eventually realised I was talking about wider goings on.

So it was with a bit of a shock that the Earp business intruded back into what should've been a special time just for us.

And it was the first time I realised that whatever came with the package deal of Waverly, I was up for it.

 

* * *

 

 

The day of the poker spectacular I'd been waiting for the knock on my door, and I still nearly jumped out of my skin with nerves when it came.

But instead of the wide eyed excitement of us finally getting some time alone I had been hoping for, she stood on my front step with her arms folded tight across her chest and a distant look in her eyes.

"Hey you! So come in, come in, this is me. Take your coat?"

She smiled at me, but faintly, as she came into my house and looked around.

"This is really nice Nicole. Really you."

I grinned, and stepped to her. Stopped when for the first time her body didn't bend automatically to mine, her body language awkward and sad. She'd told me about her sister coming back apparently from the dead, and sure that had to be a shock, but I wasn't expecting this.

"Thanks. Are you ok, Waverly?"

She half grimaces, then looks up and meets my eyes properly with a rueful and questioning look.

"Yes. No? I don't know Nicole, this is all just so weird."

I feel worry punch me in the gut.

"This, us?"

She properly laughs, shakes her head.

"No, Nicole, not us. Us is amazing. Us is..."

She looks shy, nervous, as she steps closer to me. I can't stop the magnetism that pulls us in and so I pull her to me, and as we wrap our arms around each other into a simple embrace I can actually feel the tension leave her body. Still pressed into me she murmurs,

"Us is the one thing that's keeping me going."

There is a long moment in which I just shut my eyes and bask in the feeling of closeness. I can't believe how _right_ she feels in my arms. She pulls back a fraction, looks up into my eyes.

"I'm sorry Nicole, is this too much? I know we only just..."

"No. Not at all. I know this is new Waves, but I don't know. It sort of feels..."

There's a look of recognition, of hope in her eyes, which gives me the courage to go on.

"It feels really right. And you can come to me for anything. You can tell me anything."

I'd meant about us, but the second it was out I understood she'd taken the wider meaning. She disengages from our hug and I instantly feel the loss. She goes to sit on the couch, puts her hands in her lap. Takes a breath.

"Thank you Nicole. You have absolutely no idea what it means to me for you to say that. And I..."

There's a long pause. Then I see something flit across her face, like she's made her mind up about something.

"I will tell you everything. I promise. But there's a lot to tell, and none of it is easy. Can you be patient with me, just for a little while?"

Her look of resolve fades and she looks up at me again with a scared look on her face. I sit next to her, put a hand on a tense-again shoulder.

"Us Earps aren't easy. And I'm so, so scared that I'm dragging you into our mess. You could get hurt."

She grimaces.

"You already have."

"Hey, I'm Purgatory's finest, I can handle myself." I say with a cocky grin, trying to make her smile. She does, but it's a sad half smile.

"You don't know exactly what you're signing up for, Nicole."

"I don't care, Waverly. I know I'm signing up for you. I don't care what else that means." I can hear the sincerity in my own voice, and realise I really mean it. Ands so must she, as she smiles properly at that, a look of warmth and gratitude on her face.

"You are the best, Nicole. Now. We'll talk. But right now...will you just kiss me?"

We smile into the kiss. And it feels like a promise.

 

* * *

 

Blow upon blow upon blow.

The Willa that came back was not the Willa that had left. Even if her underhand and then overt threatening of me was depressingly familiar.

Wynonna so overcome with guilt and relief she didn't see it. She certainly didn't see how Willa drew her in: or that meant she was pulling away from me. That stung more than Willa's deliberately placed barbs. It had been hard but worthwhile work rebuilding our sisterhood, and I was proud of us, and now frickin' Willa was tearing it all down.

Dolls under attack, and I was _shot_.

Bobo pulling a pin and dropping the grenade into my life. You're barely even an Earp.

Nicole walking into our standoff, and Willa shooting her. My world starting to collapse, everything else forgotten, my vision darkening, for the worst and longest few moments of my life, before Wynonna pulled back her shirt and thank all the gods and all the angels and everything good and holy, she was wearing a bullet proof shirt and she was safe. My eyes stinging with tears of shock and love, but no time to stop, no time to waste.

Then last and worst. Willa and Wynonna.

 

Through it all Nicole was my rock. The acceleration of events meant she finally saw and was told of what Purgatory and the Earps meant; but she took all of it in her stride and amazingly, beautifully, just focussed on me. Despite the shitstorm that whirled around us, there she was with me at the centre, strong and tall and kind and constant. If I'd been infatuated already, with every word and gesture my feelings solidified into love.

We did manage to snatch a few precious moments together, which I still look back on with a nostalgic affection. 

There was the first time she found herself patching up an injury, in this case the gunshot graze. The soft look of concern and gentleness when she changed the dressing, her brow creasing and the click of her tongue, her whispered "Sorry baby" when I winced.

There was the time in the barn, the first time comfort turned to need to desperation, as we got carried away and wouldn't have stopped if it weren't for Willa.

There was the first time I saw her truly snap in my protection; swinging for Champ in a move that I really shouldn't have found as sexy as I did. The shared charged look between us in the midst of all the chaos that said _yeah, we're coming back to that later._ The first time we'd seen each other really dressed up. Her in that _dress_.

For all the turmoil of those days Nicole was a beam of light, brightening my days and warming my heart and tying us together like we always had been and like we always would.

I loved her so much.

And then I nearly lost her.

 

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Damn it all to buggery, this is going absolutely nowhere. Gah. So again cutting this off and next chapter will finish, I really mean it this time.
> 
> I seem to be congenitally incapable of angst free fluff. This was supposed to be fun! This was supposed to be a comedy! Gah!!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Angsty McAngst face :(

The first time I knew that something was off about Waverly was...when? When Wynonna eventually admitted she'd noticed something too?

When Waverly launched herself at me that day whilst I was in working, in public, in _uniform_? I suppose that last part was at least was in character given our first kiss; but definitely not her complete disregard for the context or for my comfort.

Long before that, at a reckless swing of an axe?

Who am I kidding. I knew straight away.

There was something that started to appear suddenly _hard_ about her, something bright and shiny.

Don't misunderstand me, Waverly had always shone. But she had shone to me like the sun, warming me through; like the first hot days of summer, bright and sparkling like rays shimmering off ripples on a lake. I used to think back to the first time we met, the quiet poetry of the light slanting through the bar catching the dust motes dancing in the air as well as the golden flecks in her brown hair.

Now her light was like the flickering flat harsh edges of the fluorescents in the interrogation cells downstairs. The sly dangerous glint of gunmetal seen at the end of a dark alley.

But then, sometimes she was _my_ Waverly again. Soft and beautiful, whip smart for sure, aggravating when she chose to be, but only for her own legitimate reasons. And I knew what she'd been through, and was still going through, and there was a big part of me that kept on trying to remind myself that we were brand new and I really shouldn't be coming to these sorts of conclusions about her behaviour so early in our relationship.

But I'm a cop, and I've got cop instincts. And they _knew_.

 

* * *

 

I don't know when I first noticed there was something not right about me. There had been so much going on, I put the odd sensation I had of something frightening being unchained down to recent events. And initially my thoughts were all with Wynonna, not myself.

Poor, brave, fucked up Wynonna, whose whole life had been shaped by and was predicated on running from shooting one Earp heir, had found herself pointing a shaking barrel at another. In those days following it worried me and then scared me a little how she wasn't acknowledging the enormity of what had happened.

But then, fifteen years later and she still hadn't really got over the first time. How do you get over such a thing, shooting a family member? Before Nicole I had yet to hurt somebody I really loved, let alone, god, _kill_  them. I was scared and worried for her, but not sure what I could really do except be there for her. And I wasn't a child any more, I knew that all this had to be having some effect on me, and I was getting to be mature enough to give myself a break. So if I was feeling odd, strangely strong given the circumstances, with a weird and anxious energy broiling inside of me, I thought I probably had good reason.

And, well, things with Nicole were fraught, especially after she'd been left out of the whole Black Badge thing. I'd honestly been trying to protect her, but her reaction to it and to me more than shook me.

 

It wasn't just the BBD demotion though, I was sure. She was...withdrawn? Careful? I could see her step back from me. And where there had only been steadfast devotion and this amazing feeling of warmth and closeness since we'd _met_ , forget about from when we'd kissed; now there was hesitation, and caution. Like she was trying to work something out.

I can almost find it funny now; that I was so certain and sure of her that I didn't consider for a second that there was anything about her or us which would cause this change. It really was her change towards me that first made me start wondering if there was something wrong with me.

 

* * *

 

She _tasted_ different. That's pretty messed up, right?

We were in the homestead, and she was taking her turn dabbing ointment onto my sore ribs from the shooting. I made some joke about how recently I'd been doing the same for her, and then as we didn't seem to be able to help ourselves from doing, we fell together and kissed.

And I felt it. She tasted different. And she kissed different, like she wanted something from me. It was still her, but...

Christ. It's so hard to explain. Of course she wanted something from me; and I from her. But this was...was.

It's like, every time we'd kissed before, there had been this surging want, this _need_ , from both of us. I could feel that she wanted me when we kissed, and it's like she was telling me that, with how she moved against me. And I replied, and kissed the want back, with a promise, a commitment, and it was like this beautiful conversation of bodies and minds and hearts. And despite us only having managed to get time and peace together enough to just kiss, these moments with Waverly and the palpable desire had already left me more turned on than anything in my life had ever got close to before.

But that first kiss since she was possessed, it was like she was...

Shit. It still really hurts.

Like she was taking something from me.

 

* * *

 

But for all that she was still there for me when I asked. Upset and unable to put my thoughts in order about my parentage, and knowing sometimes I need to think out loud, I'd called her over to the homestead to talk it through.

When she arrived I thought I could see a genuine look of tenderness in her eyes; but also definitely still that hesitation, and maybe a hint of anger left after our fight. My stomach lurched with regret, with love, and I literally had to sit on my hands from stopping myself reaching out to her. I wanted her touch so, so much, but I knew I didn't deserve that comfort yet.

"Thank you so much for coming, Nicole."

"Of course. You don't need to thank me Waves, I'm still - "

She bit her lip, and and whilst she covered up the pained look as quickly as she could, we both knew I'd seen it. She'd given herself away: something had changed between us and her 'still' acknowledged it. Her voice dropped to almost a whisper, like she was half trying to convince herself.

"You can always call me you know."

I nodded. Half believing her, half not. Still, I patted the bed next to me, and I felt a small victory as she accepted the gesture and sat. I took a deep breath, then began.

"So, it's been so crazy lately what with everything. But something else happened, and I really need to talk about it. And I don't know who else, well I mean most things I could tell Wynonna, but not this, for obvious reasons, well you don't know why it's obvious, but then..."

" _Waves_."

There she is. _My_   Nicole, calm and steady and the home I needed to get back to. She just looked me in the eye, nodded once solemnly, silently telling me to take a breath and go on.

God. I love her so much.

So I went on. I explained about how my brain had finally puzzled out the feelings I'd had ever since I'd been just a kid, that I wasn't the same as my sisters, in either personality or looks or family treatment. I explained some of the crap in my childhood and that whilst I'd long tried to rationalise it away as a series of individuals' personal hang-ups, it seemed now like there was a simpler solution that explained every one. I may have referenced Occam's Razor at some point, earning a genuine smile from Nicole as she recognised a real bit of Waverly arcane academia. The unguarded truth of that smile almost bringing me to tears in return, in understanding that we weren't completely lost, that there was a part of her that still loved me.

I explained how seeing Willa's behaviour to me but now with an adult's critical facilities had set my brain racing, and so how Bobo's words rang true the second I heard them. I felt like a puzzle piece had fallen into place, and for all that Nicole gamely tried to point out that the biggest and baddest of the big bad revenants was a less-than-reliable witness, I think she also knew that I knew there was something in it. Enough in it to throw me for a spin anyway.

So she just sat close to me and listened, and though we weren't healed, not completely, I could feel something reconcile and crystallise between us. I trusted that whatever happened with us, even if we were over before we'd really begun, there was a part of her that would always in some way be mine.

And then the ache was too strong and we just couldn't keep our distance any longer, and she leaned to me and our heads met, and then like we were falling, found our lips meeting too. For that brief second as I kissed her again and it was so fucking sweet, I swore that whatever happened with us, I too would always always be there for her.

 

She looked sad. Sad, and lost, and tired. I felt like my heart hurt in a million places; still smarting from being left out of the BBD sign-up, and from Waverly being the one to do it, and from knowing my short words and behaviour to her was at least in part a lashing out from my own stupid wounded pride, and how I knew that was a failure of mine and that though I'd been working on it for a long time, I obviously still had work to do. But none of it compared to how much it hurt me to see her like that, and to know that I was the cause of at least some of it.

It was the first time we'd fought. And I hated it. Because I realised that whatever had happened, I still loved her so, so much.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Right, so.
> 
> I have officially changed the chapter count to x of Unknown, as despite promises this seems to just be stretching, and stretching, into an endless angsty rehashing of every little wayhaughty bit of season 2. I still aim to get this wrapped up quick smart but feeling increasingly like a berk saying it at the end of every chapter. So, anyone still bearing with this I do apologise. I will try to get some lightness and humour into it at some stage, I promise. But, well, these first few episodes are just _hard_ for them, y'all.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This update is short and not very sweet at all. Do not read if feeling blue. In fact, I feel like I should start giving these chapter smiley/frowny ratings. This one scores a mucho depressing
> 
> :-)  
> :-( :-( :-(

I woke the next day with a sense of renewed commitment to Waverly. And with a plan.

I may not know about revenants or witchcraft or curses, but human business? That I knew. And I'm Nicole goddamned Haught, and an Officer of the Law. And I was gonna help my girl in whatever way I can.

I talked though my idea best I could without betraying Waverly's confidence with the records section. I collected what application forms we had at the station. I called round the other municipal offices; pulling in favours to get forms and a name to put them in front of, and extracting promises for expedited processing.

I took the papers home and carefully sorted and checked and labelled, and resorted them.

Then I slept on it one night, just to be sure.

 

* * *

 

The day after Nicole's visit to the homestead I woke with an idea; and with it the relief of having an innocent and achievable purpose for once. I went to the stores in town, bought paint, paper, drapes, throws.

I spent one cathartic day in that room tearing down the old and stained memories, and one more building up it up again afresh, ready as a stage for new ones. As I diligently applied the paint up and down, admiring and calmed by the bright clean look I realised the transparent parallels with my current situation, making me raise an eyebrow at myself and chuckle.

I was putting the finishing touches on, when Nicole walked in. My heart jumped into my mouth when I saw her; a split second of fear happily evaporating the moment I saw her look at me the old way, the Nicole way. With love and devotion, and to my immense satisfaction, a look that said she was impressed with what I'd done but not at all surprised that I'd the inclination or ability to do it. And with a touching nervousness as she explained what she'd come with and why.

And then, as if she didn't already hold it, she went and captured my heart completely.

"And as long as you want me, I will be by your side."

I reached up and just barely kissed her, but still could feel a charge run between her and I, and an electricity course through me; and with it I found another purpose rising inside of me. With shaking hands I undid her shirt, her belt. I could feel the seriousness in my eyes, knew she could see it too; could feel through the flutter of her breath her understanding settle. She asked, of course my Nicole would want to be absolutely sure. I joked. And then tried to be serious again.

"And I - "  _love you. I love you so much, Nicole._  

" - I like you."

She knew. The way she smiled her reply, she knew, but wasn't going to pressure me into saying anything I wasn't ready for. Like when she picked me up, and lay me down, and gently kissed me, I knew she wasn't going to pressure me into doing anything I wasn't ready for either. And the respect and power of that, the freedom it gave me to guide and ask and then to just completely lose myself in the unbelievable feeling of her. And I found I was ready for anything, for everything.

And it was everything. I had never, ever felt like that. It was everything, and it was perfect. She was perfect.

Afterwards, she could barely keep her eyes open, exhausted and satisfied and sleepily kissing me, and then smiling, and letting her eyes drift shut, and then forcing them open, to look at me again in something between love and awe, and kiss me again. I'm floating still, and delighted, and giggle a little at her. "Sleep, Nicole, it's ok. Come here, and sleep."

One more blissed out, contented, happy smile, and one more kiss, and a whispered "you're amazing", and she does. 

And it's the first time she falls asleep in my arms, and I feel my heart is so full of love I don't know how to contain it.

 

I wish I could stop the story there.

I wish I could just end the narrative, close the book, and tell you we lived happily ever after.

 

I was restless. As minutes slipped away from that one glorious moment when I was soaring, flying, I felt something cold creep back into my bones. I felt the ticking anxious scrabble starting somewhere inside me. I was starting to recognise the feeling, and I didn't want it tainting what had just happened. I didn't want it anywhere _near_ Nicole. I got up and went downstairs.

 

* * *

 

 

I woke up alone. Too full of happiness and love for this to be anything other than an odd discord in an otherwise perfect moment.

I wish I could've lived in that ignorance forever. I _wish_.

Because it turns out our first time together wasn't our first time. Not our first time alone, anyway.

 

Of all the things we've been through over the years, this may actually have been the hardest.

It took me years, _years_ , for "It wasn't your fault" to change from something I knew was factually correct, and would say over and over again, to being something I honestly accepted and believed in my bones. Years more for Waverly to really believe it herself, and to stop blaming herself.

Such a long time when we couldn't really talk about it, not properly. Much much later when we had enough distance and faith in the unshakability of our relationship to begin to even address the central horror of it all, we figured that _It_ might not even have been there in any meaningful way at all. Waves explained that when it was fully in control she was nowhere, completely unaware of what was going on and no recollection after. She said there was a good chance that it worked the same in reverse, when she was in control It was nowhere either.

And she was in control, that neither of us doubted. That day, she was fully my Waverly.

But, and this took us many many years to draw out too, there were some days when it was less clean cut. She'd denied it at the time, but eventually she'd admitted to me one day what I already knew; that there were times when it was her, but her behaviour was being pushed by It.

And just the doubt of that. The grief of having that first, perfect, private moment robbed from us by that cold, hard, _bastard_.

Shit. Twenty years later, and after God only knows how much we've been through together since, and I'm sat here and I'm crying.

 

* * *

 

She used to have nightmares about it you know.

I'd wake in the dark hours, and her body would be twitching next to me. Sometimes she'd call out, and wake herself with a shout of my name, or a desperate _No_. Then she'd see or feel me next to her, and sometimes she'd jump, or worse, recoil back from me in fear. And that would cut me so, so deep, but I knew I couldn't show it then. I'd whisper to her _Shhh, it's just a dream. It's me, it's just me. I'm your Waverly, I'm here._

And eventually she'd let me hold her, and I'd feel her shaking in my arms, and with my heart breaking again, I'd rock her back to sleep.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Personally I subscribe to the theory as I've written it, that they were by the logic of the show 'alone'. But it would still have been a Very Big Deal. I don't blame the show for not going into that in depth, as frankly there's not enough TV hours in existence for the degree of lesbian processing this would involve...like I say others have done it before and better, but this is my version.
> 
> Comments or criticism as always gratefully received.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A wee bit of Nicole/Wynonna Brotp. Cos everyone loves Wayhaught; but let's be honest, we all love us a bit of Wynonna too :)

But all that revelation was yet to come. All I knew then was that we'd had that amazing, world changing moment in time, and that we were flying again. And if things still felt slightly off sometimes, I tried to put that down to us still being in our honeymoon period, and still getting to know each other. Like when Waverly one minute was turning me inside out putting on her first show for me with her cheerleading routine; me stood there grinning like an idiot, not able to figure out if I was more impressed or turned on.

And then the whiplash as later that day we fought again, her apparent lack of respect for my job combined with yet another small town bullshit rule I seemed to have missed out on in my induction week. Obviously missing that deference to the Gardners was apparently more important than the _law,_ or for that matter simple decency. Once again I let all my buttons get pushed, and actually yelled at Waverly as I lost my cool and hauled that little creep out of there.

The frustration as I open up to Wynonna, confiding in her what was starting to solidify into certainty again, that something was off with Waverly. Only to have her throw it back at me, her accusation that _I_ was changing Waves inerringly finding and then opening up another insecurity of mine. Despite me knowing full well I was in the right in this.

Nedley seemingly morphing back into Old School Boys Club Sheriff of the Month, which, for all his traditional ways, really was not what I'd come to expect of him.

That sack-head demon _thing_ chucking me across the room. Purgatory's weirdness having the cheek to intrude into the station, to _my_ home territory.

Wynonna, possessed, though I didn't know that at the time, insinuating I was pushing too fast, too hard, too much for Waverly.

It was the ultimate crash course in Purgatory odd, like a giant cosmic gaslighting persuading me that _I_ was crazy, for thinking it was all crazy.

So you'll perhaps forgive me if my judgement was a little skewed?

 

* * *

 

 Waverly came into the barn. Or, something clothed in Waverly came in. It's so embarrasing now. The voice, the body language, what she was saying for crying out loud, _everything_ was wrong. If it hadn't been for the week I'd had, I would've trusted myself. But I had been so mixed up and turned around, when she told me she needed protecting from Wynonna a part of me rebelled at having to look at the statement from a hundred different perspectives. So I just took the easy road of taking it at face value. My girl says she needs protecting? I'm gonna protect her. Even if I could hear my voice waver when I accused Wynonna, even if I could see my own gun hand waver harder.

But then.

"Shoot her. It's the only way."

I'm sorry _, what?_

I turned, and my stomach turned too as I saw the tremendous mistake I'd been on the cusp of.

 

* * *

 

The violent expulsion of Mictian left me weak, shaking, but for the first time in what felt like forever, feeling clean. Feeling free. Nicole crawled over to me, and wrapped me close to her; I felt her arms shaking and saw tears of relief in her eyes, and felt myself relax and let her hold me, knowing that I was safe. And then as she kissed me once desperate and close, then once more tenderly and soft, I knew I'd found my home.

 

* * *

 

 

Wynonna got her in the house, and once there she let me take Waverly to her room. Wynonna stood somewhat awkwardly by when Waves asked if I could get in bed with her. Made some terrible joke about Jeez, she's only just got something out of her it's too soon - Waverly cutting her off with a genuinely horrified exclamation.

" _Wynonna!_ In case you hadn't noticed I've had _quite_ the day, and was just hoping my girlfriend could keep me company and _chat_ for a bit. If that's quite alright with you?!"

Wynonna acquiesced with only slightly bad grace, which both Waverly and I took as a win, and sloped off downstairs to debrief Doc and Dolls.

Waverly was too tired even for talking in the end, so we put on some show on her laptop as she just cuddled into my side, until I felt her breathing slow, and fall regular; and I looked down to see her eyes shut and my girl, my Waverly, finally finally warm and safe in my arms. I felt tears rise again and squeezed my eyes hard against them; taking a deep breath and counting it out again, and just concentrated on the solid and wonderful reality of her.

 

* * *

 

 

Nearly midnight. Waverly now lying down fully and fast asleep next to me, an arm resting over my legs and a hand still loose in mine, how she'd fell asleep an hour ago. I sit up in the bed next to her, trying to distract myself with my phone in my other hand. Worried about overstaying my welcome but too scared to leave, too scared to so much as let her out of my sight.

A quiet knock on the door, and Wynonna pokes her head round the door; and then eases herself, and her glass of whiskey, in.

Hey, she says. Hey, I say back. She ok? she asks. I can feel a stab of worry, and see that Wynonna must see it in me too.

"Yeah. I think so. She's been dozing, I think she's properly out now. I think it's been...a bit of an ordeal for her."

I see Wynonna nod, guilt transparent on her face.

"Hey, look, it's no-one's fault, ok? Or if it's anyone's, it's not...it's not you two, anyway."

I stop short. I'm not going to name Willa, but Wynonna looks down at her whiskey, and slowly, deliberately nods. I go on, chancing my arm in this rare moment when we're on the same side.

"Listen, if you don't mind I'd like to stay the night? But I've really got to go to work tomorrow. Are you two going to be ok?"

Wynonna shrugs and smiles, jokes I can look after her too, Haught, I thought we'd established that?

"I wasn't just talking about her, Wynonna."

She looks genuinely confused.

Are _you_ going to be ok? It happened to you too, Wynonna."

She looks dumbstruck for a second, and lost for words. Then comes roaring back, scoffs. Sure, Haught-stuff, this isn't my first day at the demon races you know. And anyway, you can see the difference, she says self-deprecatingly; she just gets a bit handsy with you. It needed bad as a bone, arch fuck-up, weak-ass Earp Senior to start really being _mean;_ she says.

I recognised that for what it was, an apology for what she'd said to me. But recognised also the subtext that lay beneath the apology.

I'm many things. I'm a cop, and I'm Waverly's, well, Waverly's forever. And I've been a daughter, and a colleague, and a citizen. I've been a friend before, but in Purgatory had maybe forgotten how.

"You're _not_ bad, Wynonna. You're really not. If I'm queen brisk of bossy town, you're...well, you're a bit Earp the Unpredictable for me. But you're not bad. You're _not_."

I really am, she says. Although she's a little bit short on conviction this time. I push on.

"You know what I see in my job, Earp? I see fuck-ups. I see men who were hurt as kids, hurting their own. I see weak people take the easy path and taking down everyone in their way. I see, God, _so many_   damaged people; and they're all causing so much more damage back in return."

She nods, chastened, but somehow more relaxed, as if she's more comfortable taking this criticism.

"That's _not you_ , Earp."

She looks up, surprised, and for a second I see her like a little kid.

"You are strong, and you are kind, and you are fiercely for whatever's right. You protect Waverly, and you protect this town, even those who really don't deserve it. I have honestly no idea how you or your sister have come through everything you have and still ended up the amazing people you are..."

She starts to bluster, to interrupt me. I don't want to raise my voice and wake up Waverly, but carry on with as much earnestness as I can manage in my low tone.

"...the _amazing people you are_. Have you any idea how much Waverly loves you? Have you any idea how much she respects you?"

I see Wynonna finally hold eye contact with me, and though shocked, finally I see I'm getting through to her.

"Have you any idea how much _I_ respect you?"

Two things. I see Wynonna's head duck, and her shoulders shake, like an eruption inside her. And I feel Waverly's hand in mine in my lap tighten, and then squeeze.

Wynonna stutters, the way she does sometimes. Th-thanks Haught. Thank you.

She turns, opens the door. Says softly, without looking back at me. You're really good for her, Haught-stuff. The best.

The door shuts behind her.

Waverly squeezes my hand again, opens her eyes, looks up at me, stops pretending to be asleep.

"I think that's the first time I've heard anyone tell her that, Nicole. It's definitely the first time I've heard her believe it. _Thank you_."

I lie down, turn to her, and she folds herself into my arms again.

 


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fluff.
> 
> The end.
> 
> :)

I wake up early the next morning. I'm aware first of my slightly raw throat, then as I look to shift and reach over for the glass of water I'd normally keep by my bedside I realise I am not on my normal side of the bed. Because Nicole is.

She is asleep, a very slight snuffle to her breathing as she lies flat on her back. I'm taken over by a surge of warm feeling seeing her lie so close to me in my bed; so close and so normal and so _mine_.

When she was sitting with me the night before she'd kept her uniform on. I remember thinking it was a bit odd, but a second before I was about to ask her why she didn't change I figured it out myself. It isn't just a uniform she wears for others, I realised. It's a uniform for her, an armour in which she's strong and protective and has all the forces of law and order on her side. A symbol that she knows who she is amongst all the chaos.

Now she's sleeping just in her sleeveless undershirt, and I can feel under the covers her legs are bare as far up to what feels like boyshorts. I don't mind admitting I look her over, and feel somewhat of a twinge. Sure, I first fell for her in her uniform; but this Nicole, the soft warm beautiful Nicole that nobody else sees, affects me in a whole other way.

I lie back then, trying to get a grip on myself. _Cool it, Waverly_. Something in my movement must register, because Nicole stirs, starts to roll over, then as she feels another body next to her, it wakes her up.

I watch with fond amusement as I see her face shift from sleep to confusion to registering where she is, then me, and then, presumably before she remembers why she's there, breaks into a sleepy but broad grin. She continues her roll until she's wrapped an arm round my waist and a leg over mine. She kisses my shoulder, smiles goofily up at me.

"Good morning, beautiful."

"Good morning you."

There's a second in which we just beam at each other, basking in this moment's peace. I shift my arm so it wraps round her, her nuzzling in under my neck as her fingers idly stroke up and down my side.

I am getting ridiculously turned on.

I've always been a morning person. I idly think that I can't wait until our relationship is established enough to find out if Nicole is too. Or if she's more for passionate late nights, or lazy afternoons, or...

"How you doin' Waves?"

Her voice is still thick with sleep, but calm, measured, secure. I giggle a little guiltily at what I'd been interrupted from thinking about. She pulls back a little, looking happy that I'm laughing, but confused.

"Honestly Nicole? I'm a little distracted right now."

Her face crumples into the cutest frown I've ever seen. I turn to her as far as I can in our already close hold, and with my free hand, push back a lock of hair behind her ear, letting my hand stay and fingertips brush her neck. Her eyes drift shut, the frown fades but a small crease stays between her eyes, looks almost like pain, except for the smile I can see that now accompanies it. My hand continues, slips round the back of her neck, and I gently pull. She offers no resistance, and we slip into the kiss like it is as natural as breathing, our sleepy bodies waking to each others' touch; fire running under my skin where she touches me. Fire running right through me when she pulls me in tight against her.

After a long and breathless kiss she has to stop to catch her breath.

"Mmm. Distracted. I see."

Her voice is changed; deeper, husky. Sexy as all get-out. Then, I see her realise something.

"Hold on. What time is it?"

I roll over her, stealing a kiss on the way to reach for my phone. "Erm, five to seven?" I say plaintively, already knowing why she's asking.

" _Shit_. I'm working today Waves, I've gotta go."

I laugh again, at the look of absolute frustration and regret etched on her face. Can't resist teasing her, even though I'm sure I must look exactly the same.

"And that's a problem is it, Officer Haught? Worried you haven't left enough time for your breakfast?"

She quirks an eyebrow at me. Makes a point of licking her lips.

"I'm missing something hot and delicious, for damn sure."

I properly burst out laughing, and she giggles a little too. "Smooth, Nicole, very smooth." I tease again, as I lean in for another hug. I'm just going for contact and reassurance this time; and she must get it as I feel her arms simply tighten around me, and her lips brush the top of my head.

It feels so normal, and for that so very special to me. I realise it is the first time we've woken up together where the biggest worry we've had is the alarm clock and the imposition of a working day.

Sure, we both know there are things we need to talk about; and the extra little squeezes we both find ourselves giving the other during the long and silent embrace give that away a little.

But for now, we're just a normal couple, in lust and in love with each other, taking comfort from each other as the world outside wakes and pulls us gradually into the day.

 

* * *

  

I walk into the station like I'm walking on air. Stride about the place with a grin on my face, smiling indulgently throughout responding to the nonsense nuisance call that comes in. Hum to myself happily whilst writing it up.

After a full day of this Nedley finally cracks and asks what on earth had gotten in to me. Had I won the lottery or something?

"Actually, yes." I grin wider at his now doubly confused expression, tidying up my end-of-shift paperwork, and practically bounce out the door. "I'm kidding, Nedley. Sort of. See you tomorrow boss!"

I go to turn my phone back on, and see a missed call from Waverly. I think I can actually hear gears crunching and some piece of machinery in my inner happiness go pinging off. I redial.

"Heeey, gorgeous, how was work?"

I hadn't realised my shoulders had tensed until I feel them relax at the normal sound of her voice. Not a demon then?

"Pretty good actually. What's up?" I ask, nervously.

"Um, well, I know I was going to come over. But something's sort of...come up."

I try not to sigh, but can't keep the exasperation out of my tone.

"Oh, what  _now?_ "

I hear Waverly laugh a little at the frustration evident in my voice.

"I'm so sorry, babe. It's actually real life stuff for once would you believe it? But it's Wynonna's real life stuff, and it's for her to tell you, not me, so. And...she needs me tonight."

That last sentence was delivered quieter, with an apology in her voice. An apology because she knows that I need her, too. I take a deep breath, remember my promise that I'd be there for her no matter what.

"It's ok, Waves. It's just..."

"Yeah. I know. Me too."

I smile, forgetting that she can't see it.

"Well, ok. I'm on an early tomorrow, free all afternoon. Do you think Wynonna's...whatever will be ok then?"

"Mmhmm. Well, she's got to get used to it sooner rather than later."

"That's cryptic, Waves." She giggles a little. "Ok then, well, see you tomorrow?"

"Definitely. Definitely, Nicole."

"And if there's anything I can do for you, _either_ of you, just call ok?"

There's silence on her end of the phone, a second before she speaks again.

"Thank you, Nicole. I...I...miss you."

 I've stopped walking already. I swallow, and manage to get out "I miss you too, Wave."

"Tomorrow, then."

"Tomorrow."

 

* * *

 

Tomorrow comes, and brings me a Wynonna in denial, butchered priests, second seals, and Dolls and Doc half a second and a lick of testosterone away from out and out duelling in the street.

But it's all just going to have to wait, I think.

Nicole's driving us out to the homestead. I watch the last of the town's houses fall behind us, then the bleak fields rush by. I glance over to Nicole, driving with a look of determined concentration.

"Officer Haught?"

She just raises an eyebrow at my choice of address.

"You're speeding, Officer. In a hurry?" I say, light, teasing. See her press her lips together to suppress a smile, then she looks at the speedometer, slows just below the limit. She finally looks over to me and I see pure happiness in her eyes. She focusses back on the road, but lets the smile break out as she reaches a hand over to take mine.

I can feel my heart pounding half out of my chest just at the touch of her hand. I take a deep, deep breath, and look back out to the fields.

I can feel myself smiling, too.

 

* * *

 

This is not a story about their first time together. That is what I said, and a good narrator should never lie.

So please just consider it necessary context for the first that follows.

 

* * *

 

People always get Waves and I wrong. 

They see my uniform, the gun, maybe even just the height difference and my arm round her shoulder, and assume that I'm the one who saves her.

More than one revenant has made that mistake, to their instant cost as she busts out a shotgun, a pool cue, whatever she can lay her hands on, and then busts out one of any number of moves. Sure I'll help slow them down with a shot or two whilst we wait for Wynonna to deliver peacemaker's final word. But Waverly rarely needs me to save her.

She's the one who saves me.

She saved me from the career centred lonely life I'd planned for myself when I first moved to Purgatory. She saved me from the pain of unrequited love when, thank God, she took that enormously brave step for herself, for both of us.

And she saves me again, that day.

When we reached the homestead the happy impatience had morphed through nervousness and started to turn to actual fear. I don't know where it came from, maybe just the accumulation of so much that had happened to the both of us. But for whatever reason, by the time she'd led me to her room, I was actually shaking.

She saw, and slowed us down. She took both of my hands, and just stood simply in front of me, looking at our linked hands, just moving a thumb softly back and forth across the back of my hand. I could feel my breath rushing, fast and shallow. She looked up at me, ducked her head so I had to meet her eyes. Heard her soft voice.

"Hey. It's ok, Nicole. Breathe, baby, ok? We've got all the time in the world. Ok? Just breathe."

I nod, and let myself be grounded in the depths of her beautiful brown eyes. Watch her watch me, until I feel the fear dissipate, see her intelligent and searching look scrutinise my face. See in her small smile rather than feel myself the moment when I return to simple happiness, a normal nervousness at where we're at.

And then see her own nervous excitement build as I finally lean in for a kiss.

She's my Waverly again. I think I say as much, as we kiss our way to the bed. I am starting to feel that rush of sensation and emotion that kissing Waverly, touching her, still brings out in me to this day. She is so, _so_ beautiful.

But then a dark thought breaks through. She hears me out, explains. She grounds me again, and I let her touch ground me, her kisses bring me back to her, to my Waverly.

And so she saves me. She lets me lead, first, lets us take our time. We're slow and careful, until we're not, until we're lost in each other completely and burning up. 

Then in that moment when the whole world is just she and I and the trust between us, I need her, and she saves me again.

 

* * *

 

There's tears, after. I don't know if she even realises it, but as she lies wrapped up in me, our sweat cooling and breathing and hearts gradually slowing to normal, I feel the wetness on her face fall on to me. I stroke the tears away best I can, then kiss her cheeks for good luck. Taste the salt.

 

She holds me. I feel her kiss my face, my forehead. Place the softest kiss to my lips.

My heart is so full. I love her.

 

The frustration of the last couple of days. The pain of the dark weeks before. The desire, god, the desire of _months_. Everything is healed, everything in that moment is warm and peaceful and perfect.

"Nicole?"

"Mm?"

I wait. Sure, but wanting to take my time again, let the weight of this moment sink in. I wait until she looks at me. Her face is open, unguarded. I allow myself to just look for a minute, take her in. She looks so beautiful.

"I love you."

A split second, then she _beams_. She leans into me and kisses me deeply, and I kiss her back, and I don't think I knew it was possible to feel like this.

"I love you too, Waverly. I really, really love you."

 

* * *

 

So that is the story of that first time.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, so. That turned out *completely* not how I intended it.
> 
> It really was originally supposed to be a brief 2 chapter comedy, and instead spiralled into this sprawling directionless plotless first person feeling-fest. Ach well that'll learn me for going in without a plan.
> 
> Thank you for anyone who made it this far. And thank you so much for those who left kudos or comments, it really does salve the fragile ego ;0)
> 
> Right, 'nuff said. Except to say that if by some miracle you've read this but not Tigerlo's brilliant POV pieces, suggest you go off and rectify that immediately. See how it should be done. :)

**Author's Note:**

> In interest of full disclosure, I must admit this is a cover version (/shameless rip-off) of a Xena fic I've always remembered from God, yeeeeears and years ago. Ah, those heady days when we weren't allowed canon gays and had to make our own entertainment. ;-)
> 
> And yeah, I said my first fic would also be my last one. Seems it singularly failed to get these characters out of my head, and writing for them is strangely addictive. So whoopsy, here's another one. Comments and criticism would be gratefully received!
> 
> Kudos and apologies to the many writers who've done this both before, and better ;-)


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